


My Lover Comes

by ChromeEdwardian



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Aggressive Hawke, Anticipation, F/M, Melodrama, Sappy Falling in Love Dithering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 03:38:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4004410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChromeEdwardian/pseuds/ChromeEdwardian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When it comes to romantic encounters, Matilda Hawke's never had trouble with nerves before. But with Anders, it's different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Lover Comes

"I can't give you a normal life," Anders had said.

Feeling the phantom imprint of his mouth on hers, Hawke wasn't sure she minded. Wandering up through Lowtown, she replayed the visit to the clinic in her mind. He had been bent over, putting out milk for the cats, not the worst of views. They'd exchanged some words, he'd been grateful for her friendship, then they were kissing, clutching each other where everyone could see. She could see the lust in his eyes, and for once, she was willing to meet it.

She kicked her toes in the dust road past where her uncle lived. She considered going to his house to check in out of some misguided familial affection. At the rate she was going, she wouldn't have much family left. Hawke stopped mid-step and frowned. _Stop thinking like that._ Maybe she wouldn't see Gamlen after all. Still, she kept her eyes on the door as she passed, until she turned the corner and it was out of sight. 

Hawke's face heated. Anders said he would come to her tonight. Anders said he couldn't live without her. She didn't tell him that while she was happy to be a part of the mage resistance, she wasn't just doing it for him. She did it for her sister and her father, and every other mage she had ever met who hadn't been treated like a person. 

But she was doing it specifically for him now. So maybe she'd never have to see that wonderful face twist with anger or grief again. And maybe he would be a good influence on her. He was determined and virtuous, and good. Impossibly caring behind everything else that bothered him. Hawke felt those qualities in herself somewhere, buried deeply along with the memories of her father and her joy in living. Perhaps, Anders could be the one to rouse them again. She had certainly missed them.

She walked by the bazaar where only a few weeks ago, she had found him a new staff blade. He had touched it carefully, eyes full of delight, and Hawke was happy that she had made him happy. It was her second favorite thing, behind the thrilling moments at the beginning of every fight she got into, where her energy was up, tensions were high, and she started to scrutinize the best way to take down her prey. 

It would be so nice to have Anders in her bed. Assuming it came to that. Hawke thought she might be optimistic for once. Part of her wanted to rush back to the estate and hop in bed until evening came. Which would be ridiculous given everything she needed to get done for this shit-heap of a city. But he was worth neglecting the city for. As much as she hated this place, she did have to admit, she would have never met him if the family had moved anywhere else.

Karl had lived a dismal life, but Hawke liked to think his life was at least a mote brighter for having loved a man like Anders.

She ducked into the Hanged Man to avoid a pair of men who would have shanked her on the spot had they caught sight of her. Some stragglers from the dissolved Dog Lords gang. She sidled her way through the late afternoon crowd in the dim tavern and found Isabela in her usual spot at the end of the bar. Wordlessly, Hawke joined her, leaning both elbows on the counter. 

"A simple hello would be nice," Isabela said in her ear over the noise. "A drink would be even better."

"Forget it," Hawke said. But she did kiss Isabela's cheek.

Isabela sighed "It'll have to do. I've had better from you, though."

"Mm." She looked around at the crowd, scanning for anyone who might fuck with her while her back was turned to the room. But everyone seemed concerned with only themselves. Good. 

She turned back to her friend. "I just came from the clinic, and--"

"Ooh, good news, I hope?"

Hawke thanked the Maker every day for Isabela, who was the probably her first best friend, who saw when Hawke was at least trying to be friendly, who was just as confused with her place in the world, who was fun and funny and badass. 

"The best news."

"Matilda Hawke," Isabela laughed, crossing her arms and cocking her head, "you're besotted."

"So is he."

The grin would not leave Isabela's face. "I think I'm at a loss for words, sweet thing. So many responses to make."

"I've...got to get home."

"Right." She winked. "Get out of here."

Hawke reached for Isabela's glass and took a quick sip. Nothing touched her lips. "Oh Isabela."

"Ha! Serves you right, you cheapskate. Maybe next time you'll buy me that drink."

Hawke made a face and made her way out of the tavern. Peeking her head out, the roads of Lowtown were safe once more. She ran up the stairs to Hightown and disappeared inside her home.

After she'd greeted her mother and changed out of her gear, she called for Orana to bring up something to eat. But she didn't know if she should specify enough for Anders. When would he get here? She took a few turns around the room, pacing back and forth in front of the fire, then opened her windows and crawled onto the sill. Hawke pressed herself to the side of the house, wind gentle enough not to blow her off onto the pavement below. But that was part of the fun, wasn't it? The immediate and irreversible line between risk-taking and dying.

Hawke lifted a foot from the sill, pointing her slippered toes over the crowds below. She imagined squishing the heads of one noble or another, putting her leg down guiltily when she "stepped" on an urchin who'd gotten in the way of a Chantry mother. 

What was going through Anders's head right now? Was he as anxious as she was to meet again? Was he concerned she'd change her mind. Would _he_ change his mind? What if a patient took a turn for the worse and he had to stay late tonight? Would he send his apologies or leave her to wonder? Surely, he'd send a note. He cared deeply for her. He'd said. Why else would she be acting this blighted silly?

She tried not to picture how it might go. It would spoil the actual event. How his kisses might sound trailing across her naked body.... Hawke ducked down back into her room and went to the fire again. Regent had been called down to the kitchen to keep him out of the way, but Hawke would have really liked someone to vent her nerves to. There was a knock at the door, left open just a crack, and Hawke's stomach dropped before seeing it was only Orana with her food. But now her appetite was gone. Completely shot.

The sun went down. And he was coming, right? Of course. He's just cleaning up, and it takes a little while to get to Hightown. Oh Maker, she wanted a drink. She went to her wardrobe and studied her face in the mirror on the inside of the door. Her hair was neat, or clean, anyway. She examined the shape of her curves, hoping he would like them as much as she did. She squeezed her breasts, experimentally. How much did someone prepare for a meeting like this? Like when it wasn't just a fling or a usual courtship, but the shy consummation of a flirtation that had slowly, and at the same time suddenly, morphed into love. 

Her face couldn't get any redder. She rubbed at her eyes and closed the wardrobe. Never mind how she looked. There was nothing she could possibly do now but wait. Hawke looked at the door.

Anders was walking in. 

Oh Maker.


End file.
